"I am currently sitting in [relatively] the same spot of my living room that my dad died in, exactly six months ago 3.6.12.
My sister called me at 4:15am on that “Super” Tuesday morning to tell me that Miles had passed a little while ago and I should try and find a way to get home soon. I woke up my roommate, who was in bed with his girlfriend and had to wake up in less that an hour to get ready for his 6am PT for Kent State’s Army ROTC. I knew he would be mad that I cut into his sleep and I knew that his girlfriend would give him shit, but I decided to ask him anyway because I knew he would drive me home. My friend from Henderson Kentucky was in Kent that week, and I knew she would have been more than willing to drive me forty-five minutes to a place she’s only been to once, and in the light, but I knew I had to ask “Uncle Squill”. I let “Uncle Squill” drive my car to my parents house and back to our Kent apartment, or as we called it “The House O-Positive” (we both have O-positive blood) or the “The HOP” for short, in return he can use my car as much as he wants until I return home. During those next forty-five minutes he drove the speed limit, listened when I wanted to talk, talked when I needed to distract my head, stayed silent when I needed to think, let me pick the music when I wanted to listen to music and even proposed the idea of stopping to smoke since I can’t in my car, offering me a cigarette. The only song that I played, on repeat, was “Think Of You” by A Fine Frenzy, which was the first song that came onto my iPod three and a half weeks earlier when I drove to the Emergency Room the day that Miles entered hospice. Upon returning home I had no idea what to expect. I walked into the door and gave my hysterical mother a hug and the first thing she can slip out of her soggy face was “you smell like cigarettes”. I got some water and went into the “dinning room” where my uncles, Miles’ two younger brothers, were sitting. I gave them both a hug.”
I have put together a word document of how my fathers story of cancer became my story. Included is pictures, quotes, journal entries, psychological analysis’s, song lyrics, and my own personal reaction (and those around me) to his disease from diagnosis on November 12th 2009 to today, the six-month anniversary of the day he “passed”. (I say “passed” because he was brain dead six days prior to the day his heart stopped)
If you are interested in receiving a copy - email me @ tazmcdaz[at]gmail[dot]com